CHAPTER 3 - PREVIEW
“The true sign of intelligence is not knowledge but imagination”- Albert Einstein
Tuesday 2nd January, Auckland, New Zealand
Tully closed her eyes and willed the weeping outside her bedroom door to stop. However, the crying continued without pause for almost an hour, slowly decreasing in intensity and volume until finally it stilled completely. She crept to her door and tentatively opened it a crack - just enough to look through but not enough for someone to wedge a foot in - and saw her mother alone face down on the floor with a lit cigarette in one hand and a bottle of vodka in the other. Making sure that no-one else was in the corridor, she crept out, wrested both the cigarette and drink from her mother’s hands, and checked her breathing before quickly returning to her room for a blanket. After a short pause to ensure that the coast was still clear, she covered her mother carefully to ensure that she did not wake up in the morning not only sore (as inevitably happens when having slept on the ground) but also frozen to the core. At only thirteen, Tully loved her mother; however, she certainly did not love her mother’s drinking.
Tully went back to her room, lay on her bed and calmed her breathing while she stared up at the ceiling and tried to summon sleep. However, after about an hour of restless tossing and turning, she finally got up. She cleaned up the mess her mother had left in the shared bathroom, showered and went to the kitchen to eat breakfast. An hour later and her mother joined her, coughing and stumbling her way to the chair Tully had pulled out for her. Handing her the obligatory morning coffee, Tully then wordlessly picked up her bag and walked out the front door. Looking back through the kitchen window, she saw her mother shakily lighting up the first cigarette of the day and, head back and eyes closed, inhaling the toxic smoke. Tully shook the image from her mind and headed down the road for the long walk to her friend’s house. Better that than stay at home and hear the usual string of apologies, excuses and promises from her mother. She had heard it all too often and did not need to hear it again. She had long come to realise that her mother was an alcoholic and that her only future lay in an early grave. Tully would do her utmost to stave off the inevitable and protect her mum for as long as possible but she knew that one morning her mother would not get out of bed and Tully would clean up the bathroom for the very last time.
As Tully drew closer to her destination, a young girl about half Tully’s height suddenly darted out from behind a fence where she had clearly been waiting and nimbly caught Tully’s fingers in her own.
“Good morning, Tully!” she said merrily.
Tully couldn’t help but grin and gave the little girl’s hand a squeeze.
“Good morning to you too, Georgie. You’re looking very pleased with yourself today.”
“Yes!” Georgie breathed, “I’ve made something for you and I thought we could play with it together at home.” She peered shyly up at the older girl. “That is if you like it.”
“I’m sure I’ll like it. Can I see?”
Georgie stopped and pulled a slightly crumpled piece of paper out of her pocket.
“I know you like them, so I drew you one”.
She proudly handed the paper to Tully. It contained a drawing of a very smiley dragon with the words ‘Tully’s Dragon’ written in a childish hand beneath it. Tully laughed and the dragon winked back at her, much to the excitement of Georgie who gasped and clapped her hands.
“You like it! You like it!”
“Yes, I love it.” Tully smiled down at the little girl’s upturned face. “Does it have a name?”
“ No, I thought we could think about it once, well, you know if you liked him then we could think of a name together once we meet him. Properly, that is?” Georgie’s voice had lowered to a whisper and she blushed awkwardly but Tully only smiled and squeezed her hand again.
“Absolutely right. We’ll do it together, but somewhere where we can’t be seen, okay?”
Georgie nodded excitedly and put a finger to her lips to show she understood. This was their secret.
As Tully folded up the piece of paper and put it in her pocket, she wondered for the thousandth time why she had taken this little girl into her confidence. Maybe there was something in Georgie which she recognised in herself or maybe it was because Georgie accepted Tully’s strange ways unquestioningly.
Georgie was excited, barely able to keep her feet on the ground as she skipped to her house in front of the older girl. Her mother smiled when she saw the two friends approach the front door and stood up from where she had been seated on the verandah.
“Lovely to see you, Tully. Thank you for walking Georgie home. I thought she’d probably run off to meet you.” She smiled warmly at Tully, who smiled back awkwardly, unsure of what to say.
“Mum, can Tully stay for the day?” Georgie piped up, somewhat belatedly.
“Of course,” her mum replied. “You’re welcome to stay for dinner too, Tully. I always make plenty.”
Tully blushed and shook her head. “Thank you, but I have to be home for dinner.”
Tully knew that Georgie’s mum was fully aware of what she would be going home to and the idea of staying in a real family enjoying a meal together, even for an evening, was tempting. Maybe another night she would accept the invitation.
The girls entered the house and immediately Tully smelt the fresh pine of a beautifully decorated Christmas tree standing in the corner. She could imagine that a pile of presents all wrapped in bright paper and ribbons would have recently nestled under its branches until being unwrapped excitedly by Georgie’s family on Christmas morning. Christmas for Tully had been in stark contrast; most of it spent alone while her mother celebrated at the local pub.
The two girls bolted up the stairs and into Georgie’s room, closing the door securely behind them. Just to make sure they couldn’t be seen, Georgie went to the window and closed the curtains until the light in the room was dimmed. Without a word, the older girl sat down cross-legged on the carpet and took the piece of paper out of her pocket. She placed it on the ground between them both and carefully unfolded it so that the picture and words stared silently up at them. Tully looked up at Georgie who was staring straight back at her, her eyes filled with expectation and excitement.
“Ready?” Tully whispered.
Georgie nodded her head furiously and stared back down at the dragon. The air around the image began to shimmer as if it had suddenly become superheated and then the two dimensional image gradually became more dense, appearing to fill up the space just above the page. Georgie gasped as suddenly one foot and then another began to twitch and then the dragon’s head slowly rose from the page and turned to first one girl and then the other. A brief puff of smoke and flames burst from each of its nostrils, at which point Georgie started to laugh. Tentatively, it lifted first one wing and then the other, as if unsure as to whether they may work or what they should be used for. Tully placed her hand on the ground next to the paper and the dragon silently leapt onto it, the impressions from its feet clearly visible on her palm. His little gleaming tail swept from side to side and his long sinuous neck swung back and forth as his form slowly became more substantial with each passing moment.
“He’s beautiful, Tully, and he breathes fire!” Georgie whispered.
“So he does,” Tully laughed back. “We’ll have to think of a good name for him.”
Georgie nodded, smiling approvingly. “Can I hold him?”
Tully extended her arms over towards Georgie and the tiny dragon, now clearly covered from head to toe in glittering golden scales, turned its large amber eyes towards the little girl and breathed out a nervous snort of flames hot enough for Georgie to briefly withdraw her fingers. Tully scolded the dragon gently. It looked back apologetically at Georgie, harmless tendrils of smoke floating up to the ceiling as it stepped onto her hand.
“He’s heavy!” Georgie exclaimed, “and his scales are so smooth and soft,” she whispered as she touched a foot in wonder.
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door and Tully clapped her hands together. The dragon disappeared abruptly, much to Georgie’s amazement, just as her mother opened the door bearing mugs and a plate of sweet-smelling cookies.
“I’ve brought you girls some Milo and homemade biscuits.”
She put the tray down on the floor and straightened up, her brow crinkling as she exclaimed, “Have you been lighting candles in here again, Georgie? You know that I’m worried about fires.”
“Sorry, Mrs Stephens, it was my fault. I brought Georgie a candle I made at the end of term last year.”
To Georgie’s surprise, a candle suddenly appeared on the floor where the piece of paper had been, its wick still smoking as if it had just been blown out.
“Call me Maggie,” Georgie’s mum admonished Tully gently and then, almost to herself, “Such a lovely candle. Maybe you could put it on the plate when you’ve finished the biscuits, so that it’s safe, and don’t put it next to anything flammable, Georgie.”
She smiled down at the girls, a faintly quizzical look on her face as she looked at them. She was sure that the candle hadn’t been there a second ago.
Tuesday 2nd January, Auckland, New Zealand
Tully closed her eyes and willed the weeping outside her bedroom door to stop. However, the crying continued without pause for almost an hour, slowly decreasing in intensity and volume until finally it stilled completely. She crept to her door and tentatively opened it a crack - just enough to look through but not enough for someone to wedge a foot in - and saw her mother alone face down on the floor with a lit cigarette in one hand and a bottle of vodka in the other. Making sure that no-one else was in the corridor, she crept out, wrested both the cigarette and drink from her mother’s hands, and checked her breathing before quickly returning to her room for a blanket. After a short pause to ensure that the coast was still clear, she covered her mother carefully to ensure that she did not wake up in the morning not only sore (as inevitably happens when having slept on the ground) but also frozen to the core. At only thirteen, Tully loved her mother; however, she certainly did not love her mother’s drinking.
Tully went back to her room, lay on her bed and calmed her breathing while she stared up at the ceiling and tried to summon sleep. However, after about an hour of restless tossing and turning, she finally got up. She cleaned up the mess her mother had left in the shared bathroom, showered and went to the kitchen to eat breakfast. An hour later and her mother joined her, coughing and stumbling her way to the chair Tully had pulled out for her. Handing her the obligatory morning coffee, Tully then wordlessly picked up her bag and walked out the front door. Looking back through the kitchen window, she saw her mother shakily lighting up the first cigarette of the day and, head back and eyes closed, inhaling the toxic smoke. Tully shook the image from her mind and headed down the road for the long walk to her friend’s house. Better that than stay at home and hear the usual string of apologies, excuses and promises from her mother. She had heard it all too often and did not need to hear it again. She had long come to realise that her mother was an alcoholic and that her only future lay in an early grave. Tully would do her utmost to stave off the inevitable and protect her mum for as long as possible but she knew that one morning her mother would not get out of bed and Tully would clean up the bathroom for the very last time.
As Tully drew closer to her destination, a young girl about half Tully’s height suddenly darted out from behind a fence where she had clearly been waiting and nimbly caught Tully’s fingers in her own.
“Good morning, Tully!” she said merrily.
Tully couldn’t help but grin and gave the little girl’s hand a squeeze.
“Good morning to you too, Georgie. You’re looking very pleased with yourself today.”
“Yes!” Georgie breathed, “I’ve made something for you and I thought we could play with it together at home.” She peered shyly up at the older girl. “That is if you like it.”
“I’m sure I’ll like it. Can I see?”
Georgie stopped and pulled a slightly crumpled piece of paper out of her pocket.
“I know you like them, so I drew you one”.
She proudly handed the paper to Tully. It contained a drawing of a very smiley dragon with the words ‘Tully’s Dragon’ written in a childish hand beneath it. Tully laughed and the dragon winked back at her, much to the excitement of Georgie who gasped and clapped her hands.
“You like it! You like it!”
“Yes, I love it.” Tully smiled down at the little girl’s upturned face. “Does it have a name?”
“ No, I thought we could think about it once, well, you know if you liked him then we could think of a name together once we meet him. Properly, that is?” Georgie’s voice had lowered to a whisper and she blushed awkwardly but Tully only smiled and squeezed her hand again.
“Absolutely right. We’ll do it together, but somewhere where we can’t be seen, okay?”
Georgie nodded excitedly and put a finger to her lips to show she understood. This was their secret.
As Tully folded up the piece of paper and put it in her pocket, she wondered for the thousandth time why she had taken this little girl into her confidence. Maybe there was something in Georgie which she recognised in herself or maybe it was because Georgie accepted Tully’s strange ways unquestioningly.
Georgie was excited, barely able to keep her feet on the ground as she skipped to her house in front of the older girl. Her mother smiled when she saw the two friends approach the front door and stood up from where she had been seated on the verandah.
“Lovely to see you, Tully. Thank you for walking Georgie home. I thought she’d probably run off to meet you.” She smiled warmly at Tully, who smiled back awkwardly, unsure of what to say.
“Mum, can Tully stay for the day?” Georgie piped up, somewhat belatedly.
“Of course,” her mum replied. “You’re welcome to stay for dinner too, Tully. I always make plenty.”
Tully blushed and shook her head. “Thank you, but I have to be home for dinner.”
Tully knew that Georgie’s mum was fully aware of what she would be going home to and the idea of staying in a real family enjoying a meal together, even for an evening, was tempting. Maybe another night she would accept the invitation.
The girls entered the house and immediately Tully smelt the fresh pine of a beautifully decorated Christmas tree standing in the corner. She could imagine that a pile of presents all wrapped in bright paper and ribbons would have recently nestled under its branches until being unwrapped excitedly by Georgie’s family on Christmas morning. Christmas for Tully had been in stark contrast; most of it spent alone while her mother celebrated at the local pub.
The two girls bolted up the stairs and into Georgie’s room, closing the door securely behind them. Just to make sure they couldn’t be seen, Georgie went to the window and closed the curtains until the light in the room was dimmed. Without a word, the older girl sat down cross-legged on the carpet and took the piece of paper out of her pocket. She placed it on the ground between them both and carefully unfolded it so that the picture and words stared silently up at them. Tully looked up at Georgie who was staring straight back at her, her eyes filled with expectation and excitement.
“Ready?” Tully whispered.
Georgie nodded her head furiously and stared back down at the dragon. The air around the image began to shimmer as if it had suddenly become superheated and then the two dimensional image gradually became more dense, appearing to fill up the space just above the page. Georgie gasped as suddenly one foot and then another began to twitch and then the dragon’s head slowly rose from the page and turned to first one girl and then the other. A brief puff of smoke and flames burst from each of its nostrils, at which point Georgie started to laugh. Tentatively, it lifted first one wing and then the other, as if unsure as to whether they may work or what they should be used for. Tully placed her hand on the ground next to the paper and the dragon silently leapt onto it, the impressions from its feet clearly visible on her palm. His little gleaming tail swept from side to side and his long sinuous neck swung back and forth as his form slowly became more substantial with each passing moment.
“He’s beautiful, Tully, and he breathes fire!” Georgie whispered.
“So he does,” Tully laughed back. “We’ll have to think of a good name for him.”
Georgie nodded, smiling approvingly. “Can I hold him?”
Tully extended her arms over towards Georgie and the tiny dragon, now clearly covered from head to toe in glittering golden scales, turned its large amber eyes towards the little girl and breathed out a nervous snort of flames hot enough for Georgie to briefly withdraw her fingers. Tully scolded the dragon gently. It looked back apologetically at Georgie, harmless tendrils of smoke floating up to the ceiling as it stepped onto her hand.
“He’s heavy!” Georgie exclaimed, “and his scales are so smooth and soft,” she whispered as she touched a foot in wonder.
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door and Tully clapped her hands together. The dragon disappeared abruptly, much to Georgie’s amazement, just as her mother opened the door bearing mugs and a plate of sweet-smelling cookies.
“I’ve brought you girls some Milo and homemade biscuits.”
She put the tray down on the floor and straightened up, her brow crinkling as she exclaimed, “Have you been lighting candles in here again, Georgie? You know that I’m worried about fires.”
“Sorry, Mrs Stephens, it was my fault. I brought Georgie a candle I made at the end of term last year.”
To Georgie’s surprise, a candle suddenly appeared on the floor where the piece of paper had been, its wick still smoking as if it had just been blown out.
“Call me Maggie,” Georgie’s mum admonished Tully gently and then, almost to herself, “Such a lovely candle. Maybe you could put it on the plate when you’ve finished the biscuits, so that it’s safe, and don’t put it next to anything flammable, Georgie.”
She smiled down at the girls, a faintly quizzical look on her face as she looked at them. She was sure that the candle hadn’t been there a second ago.
